Doll
by AT0Mx0
Summary: Being in the wrong place at the wrong time turns this little dolls world upside-down.


AN: Okay, despite my Laxus/Lucy fascination recently, this is another crack pairing I've fallen in love with – purely because of the friction and I don't feel there's enough out there for them. If someone knows of a good Sticy story, hit me up! No fluffy stuff though.

A few events have been expanded upon because I haven't read the manga but I do know vaguely what happens after *SPOILER WHICH WE ALL SAW COMING* Natsu defeats Sting, so here's my take!  
Apologies for the dark themes and profanity, but hopefully makes for an interesting read.

**Rated M for a reason.**

**Doll.**

* * *

"Tch, 'the fuck's that meant to mean?"

Her current predicament was sending her face blue, pins and needles shooting down her legs to stab repeatedly at her toes. His hand was closed roughly clasped around her throat, and she was pinned high against the wall – dangling rather unflattering there, her eyes burning holes in his skull. She _would_ reply; but it turns out most Dragon Slayers lacked a brain behind those possessive eyes of theirs.

"I don't need your sympathy," He spat, his eyes roving down her immodestly clad body, "You weak fuck."

He was one to talk. His bottom lip was crusted with blood from the split down the center, the remnants of blood oozing from his nostrils and numerous bruising littering his body and face. He was shaking – be it rage or something else, Lucy couldn't put her finger on it – but she could feel the last of her oxygen leaving her lungs. She kicked, squirmed and cursed herself for the tears streaming from the ducts of her eyes to drag down and mingle with the perspiration prickling from the pores of her cheeks.

A strangled croak emerged from her throat, those doe eyes of hers becoming desperate and pleading for him silently to stop: _Her heart was squeezing so tightly it was about to burst and her lungs were simply on fire with the sure sign of death tunneling towards her at a rapid speed._

"I wonder how that _cunt_ would feel if his precious partner was so unfairly taken from –"

"S-Sting…" She cut him off, a gurgle deep in her throat. Blood was trickling from her nostril in painfully slow oozes.

His gaze snapped back from its blurry recollection of how Lector; his student, his friend, his partner, was roughly torn from his grasp and brutally killed. Sting blamed himself, partially, for not being strong enough to defeat that pink-haired bastard in the arena. But he also blamed everyone else, including this girl – such a waste of oxygen – for giving the fire dragon the strength and morality to beat him.

His acute hearing could detect her heartbeat slowing, and the thick of the blood trickling down her face was now soaking his gloves. He promptly dropped her, the dull crunch of her knees connecting with the cobbles of the alley they'd found themselves in.

He'd been grieving the loss, retreating from the inn they were situated in and had coiled in on himself within the narrow alleyway. He just needed time alone, time to bring himself up to speed on what had occurred. But no, this fucking flimsy girl had tailed him to his temporary haven and had the audacity to _spy on him_. If it wasn't for the slight sniffle she'd allowed, he wouldn't have noticed her.

_Then_ she decides to try and apologize to him, comfort him, having heard his ramblings and putting two and two together. Who did she think he was? Some kind of soft-skinned Fairy Tail mage?

No. No, he was a Sabertooth mage, and that kind of gentle nature sickened him to his core.

She was grasping at the base of her throat, the blue of her veins so prominent against the swelling red of his hand-print. Lucy felt herself relieved when she felt the familiar chill of rain beginning to fall, masking the tears still coursing down the contours of her face. Her ears were pounding and as she gazed up to her almost-killer, he was squatted back on his heels, one hand covering his eyes and the other clenched in a tight fist, slung over his thigh.

"I..." She found her voice, but was forced to swallow it whole.

"Why are you still here?"

She was taken aback, but pressed on.

"You-" She choked, the muscles in her throat aching. "You don't need to be alone."

The blonde had moved from her position, and had shifted towards him. Perhaps she was too tender for her own good, despite what had transpired. But no-one from his Guild had come to look for him, no-one had followed him after what she'd figured had happened, no-one had stood up for the poor cat except Sting, and look where it got him. He recoiled from the world in an unknown alleyway, his teeth clenched and his eyes red and puffy.

Her shaking hand tentatively reached out to touch his clenched fist, and his eyes were instantly on her. They were a striking shade of blue, the pupil a slit in true Dragon Slayer form. His mouth had crawled into a disgusting sort of smirk, all of his emotions tightly wrapped and tossed somewhere nobody would find them and he fell onto his knees before her, grasped her chin roughly and lifted her chin to invade her personal space again.

He had leaned over her, the back of her head grazing the wall she was pinned to beforehand, leaving her trapped in that emotionless gaze. The rain had picked up; pounding against their flesh and Sting's face had reached proximity of hers she wasn't comfortable with. She could feel the soft labors of his breath against hers.

"Are you always so eager to please, hmm?" was his almost inaudible response, "_No wonder_ Natsu enjoys your company so much."

A tongue had flicked out to sweep over her lips quickly – but not fast enough for her to take it between her front teeth and give it a painful bite. He'd gasped loudly, the hand grasping her chin slithering down to pin itself under her jaw, his thumb and forefinger dancing along her pressure points. An agonizingly slow squeeze and she'd groaned in pain, and with the release of his tongue, his mouth had found hers in a bruising kiss.

Euphoric from the pounding in her skull, one of her hands had reached up to grasp a tuft of his hair and gave a firm tug. He'd practically growled in delight, the large saucers she called eyes watching mesmerized as his rolled back and closed, pushing her further backwards until her entire back was chilled by the wet, brick wall. He still kneeled, pushed her legs apart and took place there.

Her mind was hazy, was this really happening? The vibration of the noises of approval he made was tingling in her throat, and her eyelashes were fluttering – threatening to drag down to meet her cheeks in defeat. A cast of wind chilled her legs and upwards, and she shivered in response.

His lips dragged away from hers, his free hand ghosting circles on the outside of one her thighs and that god-awful malicious grin festered upon his mouth again. Her lips were swollen, they were both covered in remnants of blood that the rain hadn't been able to peel from their skin and she felt a heat rising somewhere she'd hoped it wouldn't.

"I can see why…" He'd purred, unabashedly flicking his gaze down to her parted legs and her thighs had shook against his in attempt to close them, earning a snigger from the blonde above her.

She felt weak. She _hated_ this man but she couldn't bring herself to struggle anymore, _didn't want_ to struggle anymore after that tortuously breath-taking kiss. She'd never admit that, not to him or anyone else for as long as she lived. But something felt so right about being treated sturdy – like she wasn't about to shatter into a million pieces any second. She hated feeling like she was some kind of precious china doll who was to be sat upon a dusty shelf and admired but never touched.

Her hand unconsciously moved to cover his at her throat; and at an attempt to persuade it away, his grip tightened and his smile had widened, those canines of his glinting in a way that made her stomach drop and her knees tremble.

His lips were against her ear with his hot breath fanning down her neck, "Still think I shouldn't be alone, _Lucy?_"

Perhaps it was the thrill, perhaps it was rebellion. But the minute she'd let out a soft moan and raised her hips the best she could in her position, the hand tracing the wet skin of her thigh had slid up her skirt and rested against the side of her arse. Its twin joining it on the opposite side, grasping handfuls of the flesh and squeezing so hard she could have squealed, he'd hoisted her close and pulled himself up to his feet, her legs wrapped around his waist.

Her arms lazily slung around his neck, fistfuls of his hair being dragged through her fingers, nails digging perhaps a little too hard. The heat rising between her legs doubled ten-fold as the length of him was squished between their bodies, rubbing _just so_ that an atrociously loud moan soared from her throat and tickled against his ear.

He let out a low '_Mmmm'_ in response, a wet mouth pressed against her collar. The feeling of her flesh being kneaded coupled with the friction rubbing between them made her blissfully unaware of fraternizing with the enemy. Her self-respect not to mention her morals were promptly shoved out of a second story window to their doom, and her hips being pinned against the wall tightly as his hand had pushed her knickers away from the pooling heat between her thighs.

"O-_oh_-"

"Lucy!"

Sting was deadly still in that moment, his fingernails digging deep into the thick flesh of her bottom. Her brain was hesitant to confirm her suspicions of their intruder – alas it was too late, a flash of pink and she'd found herself on her arse in the cold.

Erza was at her side within a flash; touching her hair, pulling down her skirt and gawking at the bruising forming at her throat and legs.

It did paint the wrong picture indeed. Or was it indeed a picture of what had actually transpired?

Natsu had blown his lid, throwing punches with all his might, the blonde dodging due to his carelessness. His knuckled clipped Sting's lip and blood swelled and practically dove down his chin from the old wound.

Time slowed down.

She found herself standing, and running with heavy steps towards the two. Erza's hand had struck against her wrist in attempt to reel her back in – and just as she was to push Natsu from her almost-lover, a fist struck out and caught her in the temple.

The pain exploded in her brain, unconsciousness almost crippling her instantly. _Almost_.

"Lucy!" It was Erza this time, grasping her against her chest protectively and striking a hand against her cheek to rouse her from the mindless gurgles of mouthfuls of blood and swear words.

Natsu had pinned Sting against that faithful wall by the throat – roles had been reversed. Yet here she was, the ever-tender china doll lying in the arms of her masters. She'd tumbled from the dusty shelf she'd been sat upon for what seems like forever now, and she was broken. Cracks in all of her body work; blood in her hair, a grimace in place of the delicate smile she wore so well.

"Bastard, I'll kill you!"

"_Natsu…_" She croaked.

The rosette had his fist pulled back, the tension in his arm shaking his muscles, his dark eyes caught hers.

"Stop."

"Lucy…" Erza muttered.

Her partner faltered in question, the fire in his eyes burning darker than it had been before.

"He tried to – tried to…"

"I didn't do _shit._"

The smack against the blondes jaw was enough to make her jump. She couldn't handle the blood that was pouring from his mouth, his nose, that awful slice up his jaw. He may not have been her lover, hell; even her friend, but she couldn't just lie here like the placid creature she was whilst someone was being wrongly accused.

"I came to him."

You could have cut the tension in the air with a knife.

Erza's grip had tightened around her, smarting her bruises. Natsu's head had dropped to stare in somewhat of a trance at the cobble-stone floor beneath their feet. Sting had turned to toss her a look that she couldn't quite place, and she held his eyes as her partner's grip loosened and he dropped to the floor to join her in wallowing in the filth.

"I'm taking you back," Erza finalized, cradling her against her armour and taking to her feet. Thunder was beginning to light up the skies, and without a word she was carried away from that alleyway, away from a brooding Natsu, away from him.

She didn't know if this little doll could be put back together again.

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AN: Will be writing the next chapter soon, not sure how many this is going to have. Thankyou for reading! :)


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